Doyle is Dead
by TheSecretCity
Summary: Five years after 'Lauren', Ian Doyle is dead and a very different Emily gets to come home. Will have much JJ, also.
1. Doyle is Dead

Doyle is Dead

It was a simple thing, really, just another alert across JJ's desk, but there it was.

Ian Doyle was dead.

A car bomb, of all things, in Ireland. Just whoosh, pink mist, and gone.

JJ was a handler and a very good one. One of her people-they were hers and not the State's thank you very much-would like that news. It meant that years of hiding were over.

Marie Panault was a Belgian citizen, living in Brussels and working as a paper-pusher for a company that set up websites for clients. She spoke no English, only German and French, lived quietly, and had a young son whom she was supporting. The boy's name was Lorenzo, an odd choice in America but in Europe accepted without a second glance.

His middle name was Aaron, and that had worried JJ no end.

"It leads back to your old life," JJ had warned the new mother.

Marie had nodded. Her hair was short and dark red. "But he needs something of his father's,"

"He's got the scowl," JJ joked, knowing there was no way to talk Marie out of it.

Marie had few friends, except some of her son's friend's mothers, more like acquaintances, really. She had never had a serious boyfriend-except for the obvious one who had given her Lorenzo.

And really, Lorenzo was the best cover of all, since Doyle had been looking for a single woman, not a mother.

But now the cover wasn't needed. Doyle was dead.

Her boss called and told her that Marie Panault no longer needed the cover. She was being cut loose.

JJ was on the next flight to Brussels.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Marie's flat was on a quiet little side street, with whispering trees. JJ walked up to her apartment, knowing that she wasn't at work yet, that Lorenzo still needed to eat his breakfast. She knocked.

Marie answered the door. "JJ!"

JJ smiled. "Can I come in?" she asked-in English, not French.

Marie opened the door wider and JJ stepped through. "How's Lorenzo?"

"He's great. And Henry?"

"Soccer team. Kicking butt, too."

"Great. Have a seat?"

JJ smiled. "I have news."

Marie waited.

JJ could see the thoughts flashing. Was anyone on the team hurt? JJ had only ever had news twice before-once about Dave's latest marriage-to a model-going pear-shaped, and once when Derek had been shot and nearly died.

"Ian Doyle is dead."

She watched the words sink in, re-form. Watched Marie mouth them.

"Ian Doyle is dead. You don't need to be Marie Panault any more."

She could see the smile forming.

"Ian Doyle is dead. You and Lorenzo can come home, Emily. Back to DC. Back to your family."

"But-my funeral-they think-wouldn't it be to hard?"

JJ hugged her. "I'll explain. They understood before, about Declan and why you did what you did. They'll understand now. I'm taking the next flight to DC. Will you take the one after me?"

There were tears, great big ones. Lorenzo came running up.

"Mama-mama-mama!" he jump-hugged her. "Where we going, Mama?"

She laughed a little. "Home to Mama's family. Jesus, JJ, no one knows about Lorenzo-what will Hotch?-"

"Will you _trust _me, you little twerp?" JJ asked, laughing herself.

"Okay. Okay. I'll come home. I need to pack some things for us, get tickets-oh my boss is going to kill me-who cares-JJ?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Welcome back to life as you know it, Emily."

. . . . . . . . . . .

The next meeting was harder.

Hotch still occupied his office above the bullpen, but the pictures were now of an older Jack, some with his best friend Henry, both of them playing soccer, or with his dad. Even the old one of them smiling together when Jack was four was still there.

"JJ!"

Hotch got up and hugged her. "What can I do for you?"

"Ian Doyle is dead."

"I heard."

Now the hard part. "Hotch, you know I'm a handler for the State Department-"

"JJ," he interrupted. "Are you telling me this because-?"

He left the sentence hanging.

"She's alive. Now that Doyle's dead she can come back home."

Hotch rarely smiled, unless it was at Jack. But this was a face-splitter.

"There's more," she warned. "She has a son, Lorenzo. Lorenzo Aaron."

Hotch still a profiler. She could see him catching up to this new information. "And the father is-"

JJ just smiled.

"Can I tell the team?"

"Yes."

And then Hotch did something else out of character, and gave JJ a bear hug. She could feel the quivering of him suppressing tears.

"Thanks, JJ."

"She's different now, Hotch. She's still scared."

"I know."

"Doyle burned a clover in her chest."

Hotch nodded.

"Even though he's dead she's still scared."

"I still look for Foyet."

"Let's go tell the team. How's Ashley?"

"Driving Dave to the brink."

"Good. He needs the exercise."

Author's Note: Was it just me or did anyone else notice that Doyle was still at large last night? Anyway, this is the byproduct of anger at CBS for taking OUR girls away, so I figured-hell, I'll bring Emily back. JJ will be playing a big roll in this story, too. Reviews?


	2. Marie Panault

Marie Panault

Hotch called them all together in the war room, even Garcia.

Emily was alive. Emily was coming home.

Emily had their son. Obviously, they hadn't been as careful as they thought. And what kind of name was Lorenzo?

Reid wandered in first, carrying folders and his tablet. "Do we have a case?"

"Wait until everyone's here."

Jack had a brother. He'd love that. He called Henry his brother. "My brother Hank, William's Junior," he joked, playing a pun on Henry and Will's names. Jack was quite the joker.

Morgan was next, coffee in hand. "What's up, Hotch?"

"I'm waiting for everyone."

Morgan shrugged, turned to Reid. "So-how was the date, wingman?"

"Weird," Reid decided.

"Weird how?"

Reid shifted. "I guess I'm not open to the recreational use of handcuffs. What does that even _mean_?"

"You profile psychopaths and don't know about bondage?"

"I know about bondage in the abstract. Why would I ever need theoretical stuff like that?"

Morgan stared at him. "You need help."

"I do?"

Morgan rolled his eyes.

There was a clover burned on Emily's chest now. And scars from the wooden stake Doyle had stabbed her with. Like his own scars from Foyet.

Garcia came in, alive in insanely bright orange that hurt the eyes. "Hey Baby Girl."

"If you speak to me I will pour coffee on your shiny chocolate-colored head, Derek Morgan."

"What? Why?"

"Call your sisters. And mother."

"I call Mom!"

"But not Sarah and Desiree."

"I'm in the doghouse, aren't I?"

"The one in Spokane, sweetie."

"I promise solemnly to call my sisters. And Mom!" he added as Garcia raised her oversize mug threateningly.

"Good." She plopped down in her seat.

Last were Rossi and Seaver. They could be heard arguing already.

"But what is the point of having a song about sex with an alien?"

Seaver sighed. "It's a cultural thing. And since you were probably at Woodstock and this is modern pop culture-"

"Why you little-"

\ Morgan laughed. "Be nice, Daddy Dave. You hover over her anymore and she'll never get a date."

Seaver sighed and sat between Rossi and Morgan. "Probably not. He scared off the last guy, too."

"What? The guy from counterterrorism I set you up with? The one Penelope personally background checked?"

"The same. Made him cry, too. Very sad, very strange."

"Poor guy."

"More like poor me! How am I supposed to get a date with Papa Bear here?"

Hotch cleared his throat. The team was silenced.

"Last night in Dublin, Ian Doyle was killed in a car bomb."

They all paused, remembering Emily.

"There is a woman and her son, living in Brussels. Marie and Lorenzo Panault. They will be coming back to DC."

"Back, sir?" Garcia asked.

Hotch paused, about to bubble over. "Marie Panault is the new name of an American operative who brought Doyle down. She won't be using it anymore, going back to her old name. Emily Prentiss."

He'd get more reaction if he'd set off a flash grenade.

Morgan got there first. "She has been alive the whole time?"

Rossi was next. "And no one thought we could keep our goddamn mouths shut?"

Ashley stood up. "Listen, it makes sense."

Garcia shook her head and her voice. "No it doesn't! We are her _family_. F-A-M-I-L-Y, Ash."

"And Ian Doyle was still at large. She had to be dead for her own safety! Would you all rather she was killed by some Irish bastard who had a God complex?"

That shut up the worst of it.

"She's alive?" Reid asked in a tiny voice. "Is that why JJ wouldn't let me see her?"

He was looking at Hotch.

"Yes, Reid."

Reid looked at his hands. "When will she be here?"

"Tonight."

Garcia nibbled her vermillion lip. "She has a son? A husband?"

"No husband."

"Then who's his daddy?'

Hotch sighed. "Me."

Morgan gave him a look. "You were with Emily?"

"Long story."

Morgan snorted. "No kidding."

Garcia was typing. "We are all going to be there to meet her," she announced. "Including you, Ashley. Anyone with plans tonight, too bad."

"She'll be at the airport at seven tonight, gate 23. She's still using the Panault identity so she can get back in the country without a hassle," Hotch announced.

They all nodded. No way was anyone not going to be there.

Author's Note: I just have one thing to say, and it's to Randallsbaby-Dave and Seaver? Do I look like some weird person? Okay, don't answer that ;). But seriously, all I see with them is a father-daughter thing and I apologize from the bottom of my rather smelly socks for scaring anyone with that thought! (walks away grumbling about locating inter-cranial soap to wash images left by Randallsbaby out of brain. Yeurkk)


	3. The Somber King

The Somber King

Emily and Lorenzo were on the plane to DC, and he was squirming.

"Do you want your DS?" she asked, hoping to quiet him down. Usually the DS was a reward for being a generally good kid during the day, but she was too hyped up to be a decent mother.

"No," her heart sank. "Tell me story, Mama."

"A story, huh?"

"Yeah, a good one, with kings and wizards and stuff."

"Okay, but you gotta sit quiet."

Lorenzo was instantly still.

"Okay. Once upon a time…" Always a good phrase, it gave her time to think. "Once upon a time there was a somber king who never smiled at all. He was serious all the time.

"One day, this king saw a beautiful woman. She was so pretty he forgot everything he was supposed to be doing!"

"Silly king," Lorenzo giggled.

"He was so in love with her, he even smiled at her. That's when the king's advisors realized he must be in love with her, and said they should get married. Now, the king was very smart, but when he thought about love, he thought it was all silly and so he didn't realize he loved the beautiful woman. But they got married anyway, and had a little prince.

"Now this king would go out and right the wrongs of the country he ruled, making thieves give back what they stole and putting bad men in prison. And this made the evil men angry, including a very scary Dark Wizard!"

Lorenzo clapped. Now it was getting good.

"This wizard knew that the king loved his wife and son more then anything in the world. So he put a spell on them that took them far, far away from the king. And the king was so upset and angry that he left his kingdom to his trusted advisors and went out to search for his wife and son."

She was talking about Hotch and Haley and Jack, she realized.

"And he found them in an enchanted palace," she continued. "And there the king fought with the wizard and won. But before he died the wizard had cursed the queen, and she turned to stone, and nothing the king could do would bring her to life again. But the prince was still alive, so the king took him home, and made the cave a sacred place where he could go and see his stone wife."

"Did she ever come back again? Did another wizard fix her?"

"No," Emily said slowly. "No wizard could fix the evil wizard's curse."

"And did the king ever smile again?"

"Not for a very long time."

Lorenzo thought about that.

"That's kind of sad and kind of not, Mama."

"I guess so. Maybe I shouldn't tell stories."

"No. You just need practice. Nother one?"

"Oh, Lorenzo."

"Please?"

She settled in. It was going to be a long flight.

. . . . . . . . . . .

They would be waiting at the airport. JJ would be there, too.

"Hold Mama's hand, sweetie."

Lorenzo obediently clutched her hand in his. Damn, her nails were all ragged from chewing, too.

"Is my daddy going to be here?"

Lorenzo's question of the week. "I don't know, sweetie."

She was grabbing suitcases when she heard the noise. It could only be a Garcia noise-like thundering rhinos.

"Emily the Strange and Great!"

"PG!" she yelled over her shoulder, trying to juggle two bags and a five-year-old while watching to make sure no one tried to snatch her child, who was trying to see all at once.

She was thumped by a hugging tangerine creature who could only be Penelope Garcia. And then they were there, all of them, and her eyes were all burning, and she couldn't see Lorenzo.

"Whoa!" Morgan had lifted Lorenzo onto his shoulders. "I can see like all of everything!"

"I missed you guys so much," she managed.

"Of course you did, you dork," Garcia scolded. "Rossi, get those bags for her. Where is Hotch? Let Hotch say hi."

Reid bear hugged her before Hotch could get there. And there was a taller blonde boy-

"Hi, Miss Emily."

"Jack? Oh my God, you're huge! If I tried to pick you up now I'd throw out my back. How are you?"

Jack hugged her. "Hey Derek! Can you toss my brother down here so I can say hey?"

Morgan obediently set Lorenzo down.

"Lorenzo, right? I'm Jack, you're bigger brother. And this dude is Hank, William's Junior, your big brother-slash-cousin-slash-the guy I've know since the beginning of life as we know it. Hand up a high five, Lorenzo."

Lorenzo high-fived both of the boys, utterly delighted. Two brothers! He had two brothers!

"It's great to see you again, Miss Emily," Jack told her sincerely. Then added with a saucy grin "You still make chocolate-chip pancakes?"

"She makes the _best_ chocolate-chip pancakes!" Lorenzo vouched loyally.

Jack nodded. "I remember. You gotta make 'em again, Miss Emily."

"Absolutely.'

Hotch had waded through the team until he was in front of Emily and Lorenzo. The first thing he did was give Emily a long look.

The second thing was to kiss her, which made Garcia cheer.

The third was to kneel in front of Lorenzo.

"You're my daddy," Lorenzo said with certitude.

Hotch nodded, eye-to-eye with his dark haired son.

Lorenzo nodded. "And Jack's daddy. Cool."

He hugged his father, and Hotch scooped him up and spoke to Emily over his head.

"Ready to go home?"

She nodded.

"I've been ready for five years," she said slowly, trying to stem her tears.

Even while walking out, they were all jockeying for positions close to her, Reid circling and Garcia stuck her left side.

She could smell the smog of DC traffic, and heard the yelling-in English. There was a whiff of cigarette smoke, and someone had a greasy hot dog with spicy mustard.

Home.


	4. What Happened

What Happened

It took several hours before everyone had calmed down enough for Emily to ask her questions.

They were in Hotch's apartment, with takeout courtesy of Jack's ability to negotiate a serious discount, and Emily had told them everything-from how the CIA had set up her new identities to settling in Brussels to Lorenzo's birth to JJ's visit telling her Doyle was dead.

"But what's been going on _here_? Besides that Jack is the next person slated to take over the world," she added with a wink.

Jack fist-pumped the air. "Told y'all I was awesome!"

"Shut up," Hank smacked him. "Don't tell him stuff like that, Miss Em. He's already got a big head. Any bigger and there'll be brains on the wall."

Lorenzo's eyes were huge, watching the two boys like a tennis match.

"Well, " Ashley took over the conversation. "You know how Dave managed that brain fart with that carrot stick from Berlin."

"Ingrid," JJ supplied.

"Yeah, her. Don't ask me how, but the woman is that thin and manages to look like a constipated elephant," Ashley rolled her eyes. "You know about Morgan getting shot. Did you hear about Reid's girlfriend?"

"Hey!" Reid protested, trying to get his noodles onto his chopsticks.

"Tell!" Emily demanded.

"They were going out for eight months before he realized she was a professional."

Emily's jaw dropped. "Spencer, were you seeing a prostitute?"

"How do you make these things stay on the sticks?" he asked, having not heard her. Ashley just nodded.

"And we knew way before he did. Dave would've noticed sooner if he wasn't feeding a certain German Ex-Lax."

Ashley ducked as Rossi threw a pillow at her. "She did NOT look like a constipated elephant."

"Says you!" she answered from the safety of the back of the couch.

"Jessica got married," Hotch volunteered, referring to Haley's sister. "She lives in Oregon now. And has a daughter."

"And Baby Girl made a video game," Morgan added. Garcia smacked him.

"Really? Wait, it isn't that one-Blackout?"

"You know it?" Garcia asked.

Emily rolled her eyes. "It's all I've been hearing about! Lorenzo went to a friend's house and the friend's brother had it. He'd been begging for it ever since. "

"Too quiet," Hotch announced, standing up.

"Check the bathroom. Lorenzo knows how to stop a commode from ever flushing again in under a minute."

"Henry might try to put baking soda down it!" JJ added.

"What about you, Ashley?" Emily asked.

She poked her head out from the couch. "Me?"

"Any boyfriends?"

"Maybe if Dave would stop scaring them off."

There were shrieks of laughter and then three boys running away from the bathroom. They skidded to a stop between Morgan and Reid.

"Busted," Jack announced.

"Too bad," Morgan commiserated.

JJ and Emily reached for their boys at the same time.

"Talk," JJ ordered hers.

"Will the toilet explode?" was Emily's question.

Lorenzo shook his head. Henry was trying to get around the order of 'talk' without getting grounded. There was a loud noise from the restroom, and Hotch yelled something Emily knew to be German and virtually untranslatable in its vulgarity, and then he was coming out, soaking wet and covered in white-colored goo.

"Jack!"

"Gimme five," Jack held his hands so Henry and Lorenzo could high-five him simultaneously. "We rock. Nice look, Dad. Real sharp."

"It exploded on me."

"So? It's not a workday or a school day, and not near as bad as when Hank and I poured Swann's cake flour in the toilet and mixed it with ammonia to see if it would catch fire."

"Did it?" Lorenzo asked.

"No. It exploded. The landlord still looks at me like I'm the devil. Mostly because it took out the whole building's plumbing," Jack said knowledgably.

"For the six hundredth and forty-fifth time, the toilet is not your personal test tube. You will not put explosives, combustibles, or any kind of materiel except for moderate amounts of toilet paper in the toilet. And baking soda/flour combinations are banned. And how did you get a match?"

"Uncle Dave," he said cheekily, getting swatted by the man in the process.

Hotch looked at Emily. "You see this? It's a conspiracy."

"And now there's three of them," JJ added.

"And," Jack added. "It really is the six hundredth and forty-fifth time. We've been counting for, what, two years now?"

"Almost," Hotch answered. "Next month. Can you boys avoid destroying the whole building while I change my clothes?"

Jack looked from Henry to Lorenzo. "Yeah. We can hold off seven minutes for phase two, right?"

Nods.

Hotch rolled his eyes and shared a look with Emily.

"I know," she told him.

After Hotch disappeared into his bedroom, Ashley reached across and squeezed Emily's hand.

"Missed you, too."

She squeezed back. "Glad to be home, Ashley."

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay! I didn't post Sunday because it was church and work. I didn't post Monday because I have a (epithet) (rude comment on looks) (barnyard animal) boss. Oh well.


	5. Les Vies D'autres

Les Vies D'autres

Everyone had gone home, even JJ and Henry. Lorenzo and Jack were-theoretically-asleep in Jack's room. Emily found herself cleaning up the kitchen while Hotch threw out the cardboard and Styrofoam loose in the living room.

It reminded her of the days after Foyet, when she would quietly come over and make herself at home. And after Haley, Jack had pretty much held her hostage. The first night she had come over he asked her to stay the next, and so on ad infinitum.

She had begun by using the couch, and ended with the other half of Hotch's bed. It became their bed.

He came into the kitchen while she washed dishes, and picked up a towel to dry them.

She wanted to say something, to apologize, something.

"What are you going to do?" Hotch asked.

She handed him a plate. "I don't know."

"Come back to the Bureau?"

"I don't _know_, Hotch. I'd be off my game if I did."

"You'd get it back."

She handed him another plate and started on the bowls covered with duck sauce. "We have a son between us now. I can't work on the team with you being his dad. I don't think I want to worked at the FBI if I'm not on our team. So I haven't even begun to think about that."

"What did you do in Belgium?"

"Website design type things. Translating Spanish into French and vice versa. Quiet things."

"What about translating for the government? You know Arabic," but she was already shaking her head.

"Working for the CIA is what got me into this mess. No."

"Okay."

He dried bowls and put them up.

"Will you and Lorenzo stay with Jack and I?"

She moved on to glasses. One still smelled like the beer Rossi had been drinking. Ashley had seen that and stolen his keys.

"Emily?"

"Thank you, Hotch. It'll be nice until we get another place."

"I'm not sure if Jack will let you take his brother away."

She looked at him, and handed him Dave's glass. "I'm a stranger now."

He ran the towel over the glass, put it in the cupboard. "We'll all have to relearn things."

"I have to relearn everyone's lives. Yours, Jack's, PG's, everyone."

"That's it. _Re_learn it. You knew about us before. You'll relearn fast."

"I'm just not sure if this should be done in close quarters. Jumping back into everything."

There it was. And they both knew she wasn't talking about being with her family again.

Hotch set the towel down. "Come here."

She stepped into his personal space, and he put his arms around her, so that his mouth was next to her ear.

"I don't give up well, or easy. We had something. We had enough of something to make Lorenzo. I want to try. Please?"

She nodded into his shirt.

He kissed her ear. "I've missed you."

"Missed you, too."

She mumbled from his shirt. "Are you saying you haven't had a girlfriend all this time?"

He chuckled. "Dave kept trying to set me up."

"Oh God."

"Exactly."

She snuggled closer. "Need to finish the dishes."

"In a minute."

"Who'd he try to set you up with?"

"Friends of the elephant."

Emily snorted. "Does she really look like an elephant?"

"Yes. But don't tell Seaver. Then I won't be the big bad unit chief who yells at Reid for practicing physics magic in the bullpen."

"Did he ever bomb Strauss with those things?"

"Nothing has ever been proven."

She pulled her head up and looked him in the eye. "Did someone get that incident on video?"

"Garcia."

They both smiled at the same time.

"Boys," Emily said in a firm tone, never changing her expression. "Go back to bed and stay there."

"Dang," she heard Jack say. "She _is_ good."

"Told you," Lorenzo muttered.

Feet scurried away.

She dropped her head back onto Hotch's shoulder. " I wonder if Rossi knows a publisher that needs a translator."

"Probably."

"Then I'll ask. I like doing that. And I can be at home."

"You won't get much work done around these two."

"Or you, if I remember right."

"You enjoyed that."

"Obviously. So that's three of you heathens I have to work around. Who does Jacks stay with when you're out of town?"

"Mrs. Carmichael next door. Says he reminds her of her grandson. Jack wanted to know if her grandson was Dameon the antichrist. They get along."

"It'll be nice to meet her."

She yawned.

"The dishes can wait," Hotch told her, putting down the towel. "Let's get some sleep."

"If we sleep in the same bed they'll think we're together."

"Aren't we?"

"Hotch," she warned.

"It's what Jack thought anyway. He's the one who decided on red roses."

"For what?"

He held open the bedroom door. "Your funeral. He said they were your favorite."

Emily felt herself start to cry. "Haley had white roses. Didn't Jack-"

"He picked out those too." Emily walked inside. "He said you were his other mother."

"Does he still?"

"He always visits his mother and you at the cemetery. And he leaves a white rose for Haley and a red one for you. So I would say yes."

"I'm tired, Hotch."

He kissed her forehead. "Me too."

They shared the bed, side to side, sleeping the sleep of the relieved.


	6. The Dews of Dawn

The Dews of Dawn

Rossi was too hyper to write. He was staring at a blank screen.

In lieu of pretending to write, he dialed the first number on he cell phone.

"Hello?" JJ answered, sounding more harried then she ever had at the BAU.

"Jen?"

"Hi Dave, she said warmly.

"You okay?"

"Just a day, you know? Where the coffeepot explodes and your boss is a jerk and no one wants to play because you're the new girl at school," she blew out a breath. "Sorry."

"It's okay," there was a niggling in his brain, so like any nosy profiler, he followed it. "Is Will doing alright?"

"You hate Will," she answered, suspiciously.

"I don't _hate_ him," Dave protested. "I just don't exactly _like_ him, is all."

He could hear the eye roll. "The difference being?"

"Four letters," he quipped. "Seriously, Jen. Is everything all right?"

"Crazy job. New, crazy boss. Will and I barely seeing each other with the insane hours. Henry is in school and we have to pick him up after, and Will missed his turns this week, so my boss-Mr. White-is riding my ass because I have to leave early to get Henry."

"All you have to do is ask and I'll get him."

"I didn't think of that." "Well, figure out when you want me to get him. I like him, and we get along. Hotch won't care if I bring him to the BAU."

"Thanks."

"So, why hasn't Will picked him up?"

"No idea."

That wasn't good. He always avoided his exes before he'd divorced them. At least JJ and Will weren't married. But there was Henry. Dammit. He'd have to call his lawyer about that.

She seemed to hear the wheels turning. "Do NOT go trying to fix my life."

"Did I say I was going to?"

"You were thinking it."

"Do they teach you people mind-reading as part of the job as a communicator?"

"No. Hotch and Gideon taught me that."

"Touché."

"Thank you."

They were silent, and then JJ spoke.

"I would have told you, but she would have been in danger. Doyle was watching. If he got wind she might be alive, she'd be dead, and Lorenzo too."

"I know."

"Not that it helps everyone not be mad at me," she added with a bit of a sniff.

"Mad at you?" he sat bolt upright. "Why the hell would I-oh hell."

JJ had never given a woofer. Not about anything anyone said. She stood up to everyone, even Strauss, and told them-politely-exactly which orifice they could shove it up. The fact that she was worried _now_…

"Hell, JJ. I'm just glad you could watch out for her. Better then anyone else. We all are. Nobody's mad at you."

What exactly had been happening to JJ while they were all busy? This was not like her at all. Maybe he should find Will and beat him up. And this White character, too.

He squashed the thought before she could pick up on it.

"Is Will going to be home tonight?"

"Probably not. He has a meeting."

"How about I pick up Will and you and we have dinner at my place?"

"The prospect of not cooking? Henry goes to St. Catherine's Elementary and gets off at three. I'll call Sister Rachel and let her know you'll be picking him up."

"I didn't know he was going to Catholic school."

Amazing, what he didn't know.

"Started this year. I've been out of town so many times I wanted him to go to a school where they would be able to keep him overnight if Will or I couldn't pick him up."

"Good idea."

"What time for dinner?"

"Say seven?"

"I'll call Sister Rachel. Thanks Dave."

"What's family for if you can't abuse the privilege?"

After they had hung up, Dave leaned back in his chair. The screensaver had popped up. Henry had sent him the file with it in it over an email. It was of deer in the woods, viewed from a blind.

What did Henry like to eat? Pizza, if he was any judge. He and Jack seemed to live off the stuff. And JJ?

He remembered salads, and lots of them, after Henry was born. And before that-chicken. She had been in love with deep fried chicken, She even liked the livers deep-fried. They would crunch when she ate them, and spray the breading everywhere.

He made a list. He and Henry were going shopping. Most of what he had was deer meat, and JJ would mutter about Bambi if he served that. Not that Henry cared. Henry was a bottomless pit who gladly ate everything on his plate, and his neighbor's too.

. . . . . . . . . . .

St. Catherine's was run by nuns. He remembered nun school. He remembered it so well that he also had to remember that he was a top criminal profiler and an FBI agent who was allowed to carry a gun and wave it around in a threatening manner.

It wasn't helping.

Henry seemed unaffected, swinging his backpack around until he saw Rossi. "Dave!"

"Get your butt over here!" he roared, causing Henry to crack up.

The nun nearby looked at them both suspiciously. "Henry, do you know this-man?"

Apparently she'd been going to say something else but restrained herself.

"Duh," he rolled his eyes. "That's Dave, Sister Rachel."

She gave him her best blank look.

"Dave Rossi. Mom called and said he'd pick me up."

"Your father didn't call," she sniffed.

"That's 'cause he's working late," Henry explained.

"He doesn't want anyone besides your mother or himself to pick you up."

This was new, and JJ certainly hadn't said anything about it. But Henry got there first.

"Sister Rachel," he had hands on hips and seemed about to pull a Jack. Which was good. Rossi didn't want to tangle with a nun. "Who pays the school, Mom or Dad?"

"Your mother always send the money," she sniffed.

Rossi wondered if she had a perpetual cold.

"And who picks me up?"

"Your mother, and occasionally your father is with her."

"And who comes in whenever I blow up a toilet, light something on fire in playground, or punch Miles in the nose?"

"Your mother."

"So basically, Mom does everything."

"Yes."

"And Mom said Dave could pick me up."

"Yes."

"We're cool, then." And he hurtled off to Rossi's truck before Sister Rachel could object, Rossi hot on his heels.

Once they were safe inside the vehicle and not speeding like escaped convicts, they started laughing.

"Did you really blow up a toilet?" Rossi finally asked.

"Yeah, Jack and I practice to see what blows up the best without, you know, hurting anyone, and then I use it on the nuns' restroom."

That set Rossi off again.

"I went to a church school," Rossi confided. "We'd make plug nickels in shop class and use them to ride the subway."

"That's a good one! What's for dinner?"

"Pizza and fried chicken. Sound good?'

"Yeah!"

Author's Note: I realized I was focusing almost exclusively on Emily, so I've switched focus a little. And the reason this is so late is that I have my first PAID WRITING JOB. I review books and stuff for the Tallahassee division of . Anyone who wants to look (I get paid for views so spread the word) the address is .com/books-in-tallahassee. I'm writing under my own name, Jennifer Stroup. Please click on my writing and I Luvs U 4Ever!


	7. State Secrets

State Secrets

JJ looked over her paperwork, grateful for the extra time to catch up, instead of packing up, getting Henry, going home, making dinner with one hand and working with the other, up until midnight with paperwork past her eyeballs.

Which Mr. White had noticed.

In the office, Mr. White had quickly gotten a reputation that made him seem akin to Satan. And within a month. He was worse then Erin Strauss.

He had asked her to come to his office and asked if, perhaps, she was having difficulty with her workload? Maybe with balancing the roles of wife, mother, and handler?

At least Strauss acted as if you were out to get her job, not as if you needed a pat on the head and a piece of candy.

Rossi had long ago introduced her to several unwholesome and untranslatable Sicilian names to call people. All seemed applicable to Mr. White. Particularly the one regarding the interbreeding of donkeys and turtles, and why it should not be allowed except to make circus sideshows.

Her phone rang.

"Jareau," she answered, shifting through intelligence files from Turkey. How the hell had she wound up with Turkish files? Her people were throughout Europe, not the Middle East.

"Ms. Jareau, may I have a moment of your time?"

Mr. White. Lovely.

"You have it now, Mr. White," Ah, that was it-Ashman had sent the files to her because they connected with the terrorist group he was investigating and wanted her opinion-could they infiltrate or not?

"I have a new assignment for you. All your other projects will be delegated for the duration. Have you seen the Ashman file?"

"It's in front of me now, sir."

"It's top priority that we get a man inside Asker Tanri'nin ASAP," Mr. White told her importantly. "They've been terrorizing the Turks for years and chatter has been picked up showing they intend to move on the US soon."

"Give me an hour to delegate my other files and I'll be on it," she was already preparing to call Rossi and ask him if he could keep Henry the night. Damn it.

"We have a small window, Ms. Jareau."

"How small?"

"Considering we have no idea who they are or where they are and the shatter indicated they were moving inside of two months-a week, maybe less."

She considered asking how the intent of Asker Tanri'nin had been overlooked for so long by supposed professionals. Instead, she shut up, and started thinking.

Garcia could get more information on Asker Tanri'nin then anyone in her building, and faster. And maybe Rossi could help her throw together a profile she could use to infiltrate the group.

"I leave it to you, Ms. Jareau."

He hung up.

She looked over the file again. Homegrown terrorists-everyone had them, they were like a bad case of lice-were the hardest to penetrate, but they were moving out of their comfort zone. Way out. Where the language and customs were wholly unfamiliar…

Unless one or more of them had been to the US before.

She scribbled a note to herself-_check Turkish immigrants and students_.

Bob Kipper ran Turkish operations. She'd give him a call about Asker Tanri'nin and see if he could send her anything.

He phone rang again.

"Jareau."

"Hi Mom! Did you know Dave got thrown out of church school?"

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"We've got pizza and greasy fried chicken and all sorts of awesomely bad-for-you food."

"Could you put Dave on, sweetie?"

"Sure. Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, sweetie."

Rossi was next. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I was just given a huge, almost certain to ruin me if I screw it up job."

"Running late, then?"

"Very."

"We'll save you some, then, and do guy things."

"I'm almost afraid to ask what that means."

"Guy things. TV. Cars. Sports."

"Aren't you forgetting girls?"

"No. You'll be in later."

She almost laughed. "Make sure he's in bed by ten. He has school tomorrow."

"_I'm_ not putting him to bed. I'll make Seaver do it."

"Why Ashley?"

"Easy. It's a thing big sisters are supposed to do."

JJ rolled her eyes. "I'll try to be back before then."

"Take care."

She hung up and got down to work.

Author's Note: There is no actual (to my knowledge) terrorist group, Turkish or otherwise, going by the name Asker Tanri'nin.


End file.
